


Hurt

by freakofnature



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Death, Heavy Angst, I'm sorry but tbh i'm not?, It's sad i made two people cry plz tread lightly, M/M, No Fluff, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3567479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakofnature/pseuds/freakofnature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo is 23 years old and too young to be calling 119, too young to be crying into the phone about a small ginger boy bleeding out.<br/>He’s too young to do CPR on his boyfriend—though estranged (and maybe that was his fault). He’s too young to have paramedics tell him there is nothing else they can do.<br/>Kuroo Tetsurou is 23 years old, and too young to be told that his boyfriend is dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karasunotsubasa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/gifts).



> So in the Kurohina Net we have this...week thing. where each day of the week is something idk them off the top of my head b/c i was working when this convo went down. bUT. Wednesday is Weeping Wednesday, and it was funny b/c i had wednesday off. so i wrote my friend Kath (karasunotsubasa on ao3 and kuroohina on tumblr) this fic so i could break her. 
> 
> i broke raghda in the process rip my kurohina nerd friends. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy it! i think its pretty okay, all things considered, but its not the BEST writing. more like an experiment of sorts, ya kno?

Hinata flicked the end of his cigarette, watching the ash fall to the ground with muted interest. Bringing the cigarette back to his lips, Hinata breathed in deeply before slowly blowing out through his nose.

Arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back against a warm chest, “Bad day?”

Hinata just hummed and took another slow drag before blowing it into the night air, “Stressful.” He answered shortly, laughing a little at the end, “I sound so old, don’t I?”

Those arms tightened around his body and pulled him harder against the same chest, “Not old,” the owner of said warm body commented slowly, “Just wiser maybe. You’re still young. Just hardworking.”

Hinata laughed again, cold and humorless. “I’m 22, and I feel like I have the mind of an old man.” A few beats of silence, “I think I failed my latest bio test,” he confessed with a sigh, sagging against the body behind him.

“You’re 22 and working towards a physical therapy degree,” Well that was _true_ , “In fact, you got your credit count waved for two whole semesters because you take on so many classes.” Also true, “Shou, you’re one of the hardest workers I know.”

Moving to turn around, Hinata dropped the last bit of his cigarette as he twisted in those strong arms, rocking up onto his toes to press a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek, “Thanks,” he sighed against warm skin, “I needed that,”

Kuroo just snorted at him and hugged him tighter, “Anytime babe.”

* * *

 

A loud thud echoed through the apartment, and Hinata only stared at Kuroo when he appeared in the hallway.

“What the fuck was _that_ ,” Kuroo asked him, though he likely knew exactly what is was.

“My textbook.” Hinata stated flatly, fingers itching to grab a cigarette and go through them until his heartrate calmed and his mind stopped racing, “I got annoyed with it.”

“So you thought throwing it against the wall and possibly denting the wall was a good idea?” Kuroo bent down to retrieve the abused textbook and placed it back next to Hinata. The annoyed glare he got stopped Hinata from throwing the damn thing again.

“Yeah, actually,” Hinata really wanted that cigarette now, “it still seems like a good idea.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kuroo the ever helpful boyfriend. Except when all Hinata wanted to do was be left alone to calm himself.

He didn’t need Kuroo’s meddling.

“No.”

“Want some water?”

“No.”

“Do you want me in here?”

Hinata paused, the _no_ on the tip of his tongue, “You can be,” he replied with care, “but if you are I’m leaving.”

Before Kuroo could say another word, Hinata had leapt off the bed and grabbed his pack of cigarettes, snapping out that he would be back in a moment.

Luckily, Kuroo left him alone on the balcony of their apartment.

* * *

 

There were days that Hinata honestly questioned why Kuroo stayed with him. He was fickle at best, and at worst he was downright awful. It wasn’t surprising for him to last out at Kuroo, for him to snap that Kuroo was something _despicable_. But the raven stayed. Kissed him goodnight every night when Hinata climbed into bed, even if it was six in the morning. Kissed his cheek good morning because of Hinata’s hatred of morning breath; kissed him goodbye when one of them left for the day.

It was disgusting.

It was perfect.

He didn’t need Kuroo.

Kuroo needed him.

It was a lie. He knew it was a lie. Hinata was a master at lying to himself. He needed Kuroo more than Kuroo needed him. He needed the stableness in his life, needed to be told that he was more than okay, he was brilliant. Even if his test scores weren’t always reflecting that. Even with the hours upon hours of studying he had to do in order to get what crappy grades he got.

He needed Kuroo in order to not fall apart.

But sometimes, he wasn’t sure if Kuroo could handle him much longer.

He didn’t want to be alive if it ever came to that.

* * *

 

Smiling against thin lips, Hinata pressed his body against Kuroo’s giggling between their slow kisses.

“I missed you,” Kuroo whispered against his neck before his teeth sunk into the flesh.

A pang of guilt hit Hinata in the gut, but the pleasure that the pain of Kuroo’s teeth biting into his skin overrode the unpleasant feelings for the time being. Instead he focused on the slight pain and the pleasure that wanted to take the forefront of his mind.

“I missed you so much,” Kisses down his neck, along his collarbone.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, breath catching in his throat.

“My sunshine boy,” words breathed against his stomach, lips trembling against the skin, fingers holding his hips in too tight grips, “I missed you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Hinata’s breath rushed out of him, one of his hands untangling from their spot in Kuroo’s hair to cover his mouth as he muffled a sob, “Kuroo I’m _sorry_ ,”

He felt a cool dampness land on his stomach between Kuroo’s incessant kisses. Drop after drop after drop. Lips that pressed into his skin too hard, fingers that gripped too tight, a body that felt too stiff. It wasn’t right, this wasn’t right.

They weren’t right. He fucked it up, he fucked it all up.

“I love you,” sounds muttered against his lips, fingers brushing against his cheeks.

“I know,” is what he says back.

The heartbreaking smile Kuroo gives him at those words makes Hinata want to cling to his boyfriend—the best thing that ever happened to him—and never let go.

He can’t say it though—it’s something they are both very aware of.

Hinata isn’t sure if Kuroo just hopes someday Hinata will return the sentiment, or if he just likes to hurt himself every once and a while.

As if Hinata doesn’t do enough of it on a daily basis.

* * *

 

A list of lies Hinata has told himself over the years:

-He will be good at volleyball

-He will go to nationals by his 3rd year

-Getting into Todai wasn’t that hard

-He doesn’t need help

-Kuroo loves him no matter what

-Studying isn’t that big of a deal (who needs a life anyways)

-Smoking is going to kill him

-Living is worth the pain

* * *

 

Another book thrown against the wall. This time Hinata screams as he throws it before grabbing his other textbooks and throwing them at the wall too.

It feels good. It feels liberating. It doesn’t hurt afterwards. Not like the cuts on his thighs. The cuts he doesn’t let Kuroo see.

He wonders if Kuroo has caught on to why he doesn’t like his boxers taken off anymore. He doubts it. They rarely have time to kiss each other goodbye, let alone have any sort of intimate time.

“Shouyou what the fucking _hell_ are you doing,” Kuroo is gripping his wrists. Too tight, too tight, too tight—it _hurts_.

He wants to scream, but instead he just pulls at his wrists until Kuroo lets go.

“I need to smoke,” he declares, brushing past Kuroo without so much as a sorry.

On his way out he notices a small mark in the wall.

It fills him with amusement at being able to throw that hard, and disgust.

He truly is a despicable person.

* * *

 

Kuroo isn’t home when Hinata gets home that night. It isn’t a surprising occurrence, Kuroo had told him of his that morning when Hinata had left for classes. Hell, he even had a text message from the Ever Thoughtful Boyfriend just in case Hinata managed to forget.

Kuroo wasn’t home.

It wasn’t like Hinata went out of his way to hurt himself. Often times it just happened to be that Kuroo wasn’t home when Hinata _did_. Though he wasn’t sure if he would still seek out the pain if Kuroo was home.

Why hurt himself when he could just hurt the one he loved instead? Why leave physical scars when he could just wound Kuroo over and over and over and over again, until the raven left him?

But today, today was different. After a build-up of shitty study attempts and several tests Hinata is _sure_ he failed, he needs some sort of release.

And Kuroo banned him from throwing things at the wall.

And he’s out of cigarettes, go figure.

Hinata finds himself moments later, sitting on a towel in the middle of the bathroom. On one side of him is the trusty little blade Hinata used for nights like these; the other side with bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and cotton balls.

 _I deserve this_.

The first cut stung, but it didn’t hurt too much. Hinata watched the blood bead up to the surface, noting that it wasn’t all that deep compared to the other cuts he had given the insides of his thighs.

 _Kuroo doesn’t even love you_.

Cut two hurt more, though it wasn’t by much. More blood bubbled to the surface, but it wasn’t enough to drip down his thighs and onto the towel.

_You hurt him every day with your shitty words_

It hurt a lot more by the third cut, blood making a small path down his thigh and onto the towel. Hinata watched the wound bleed for a while before shifting his gaze to the bloodied blade in his fingers.

 _More_.

The next couple of cuts hurt in varying levels of pain—from just a wince to Hinata biting down on his lip and quickly having to apply some peroxide and bandaging one wound before it bled _too_ much.

 _It wouldn’t matter if you killed yourself_.

He ignored that thought in favor of trailing his finger along his visible wounds, a small smile on his face.

He felt better now.

But the fact that this made him feel better brought on a whole new set of worries.

There wasn’t time to worry about them now, not when he felt so good. He could worry later. There would be enough time then

And if there wasn’t…well Hinata was good at lying to himself.

* * *

 

The first mistake was wincing when Kuroo squeezed his thigh to get his attention a few nights later. The second mistake was trying to play it off. The final mistake was not looking Kuroo in the eyes.

“Shouyou,” Kuroo looked ready to yell, and Hinata wasn’t sure if he wanted that. On one hand he wanted it to happen. He deserved it.

But would that be Kuroo’s breaking point? He didn’t want that. He didn’t want Kuroo to leave him. He needed Kuroo, he needed Kuroo to tell him that things would be okay; he needed someone to love him. Because he sure as hell didn’t.

“Shou, what happened?”

Hinata shrugged—again—and kept his eyes on the book in front of him. The only thing that gave him away was the shaking of his hands.

He might have been good at lying to himself, but to others? That was a whole new game Hinata never learned.

“I told you. Nothing happened. My muscles are tense from not moving around too much,” Not really a lie, but it shouldn’t have made him wince all that much, “besides, you scared me.”

“Shouyou,” Kuroo sounded worried, scared. Angry. He sounded scary, “look at me.”

Hinata didn’t turn his head.

Once again fingers grip the flesh of his thighs, and once again, Hinata couldn’t help but wince at the pain that flashed through him.

“Kuroo—”

“Show me your legs.” The pinched expression on Kuroo’s face didn’t escape Hinata’s notice, but he opted not to comment on it.

“I told you I was _fine_ —”

“Shouyou show me your legs,”

“Why don’t you just listen to me?”

“If you would just show me that you’re okay—”

“Just leave me alone!” Hinata finally shouted, balling his hands up into fists. Kuroo froze midsentence, staring at him with a mix of anger and sadness, “Please.” He tacked on at the end, dropping his gaze down to his text book. His hands shook, but that was okay considering his entire body was shaking.

“Sorry,” he heard Kuroo say. He heard Kuroo get up off the couch, heard the rustling in the kitchen, then the bedroom before Kuroo was putting a mug of tea on the coffee table in front of where Hinata was sitting and draping a blanket across the seat where Kuroo had been sitting, “I’m going to go out for a bit.”

“Should I wait up fo—”

“No.”

Hinata nodded and didn’t look up, fighting back the tears that stung his eyes. They only fell once the click of the lock had echoed around the house as Kuroo left.

* * *

 

_I love you_

I’m useless.

_I love you so much_

I hate myself

_Why do you hurt yourself_

I hurt you, I deserve pain too

_I love you Shouyou_

I can’t love you if I can’t love myself

_You need help_

I’m fine.

_I can’t take care of you anymore_

I didn’t think we would last much longer anyways

_I love you_

I know

A dream.

* * *

 

“I love you,” words spoken into the dead of the night, words Hinata isn’t sure he is supposed to hear.

“I love you, Shouyou,” it sucks, not being able to turn around and whisper _I know_ against Kuroo’s lips, to pull him down into a hug and tell him how sorry he is, to apologize for every fucked up thing he has done over the past couple of days, weeks, months, years, “I wish you would trust me more. Talk to me, tell me what’s on your mind.”

Hinata knows then that he isn’t supposed to hear these things.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” Hinata feels the bed shift, feels Kuroo’s breath on the back of his neck, “I miss my sunshine boy,”

Hinata feels his heart break, but in the end he doesn’t do anything.

* * *

 

They’re in bed when Hinata feels like it would be a good idea to show Kuroo his thighs. He hadn’t cut in a few days; the wounds mostly healed or scabbed over, none of them needing bandages anymore.

“Kuroo?” his voice is soft in the warm night

“Yeah?”

“Can I show you something?” Hinata wants to shrink into the bed, to have it swallow him whole. To devour him and spit out his bones all clean. To be burned alive. To be anywhere but right _here_.

The bed shifts, “Sure, what’s up babe?”

Hinata wants to die.

Funny considering he could have killed himself several times. Kuroo wouldn’t have known what hit him.

It would be nice to see him cry over his body.

“You can’t look,” he blurts out, belatedly realized he wanted to _show_ Kuroo something.

He’s so fucking dumb.

God how did he ever get into Todai again?

“Okay,” is all Kuroo says as a reply. Whether he caught Hinata’s fumble or not, Hinata was glad it wasn’t spoken of.

With shaking hands, Hinata grabs ahold of one of Kuroo’s wrists and pulls it under the covers. With gentle movements, Kuroo’s fingers grip his thigh, fingertips running over the puckered scars slowly.

“Shouyou…” Kuroo whispers, loud in the silence.

Hinata just laughs, “I know right? I’m all kinds of fucked up, aren’t I?”

Kuroo says nothing, just kisses him until Hinata can taste the tears between their lips.

* * *

 

“Stop.” He orders, hands tangled in Kuroo’s hair, “Stop I don’t need you do to this,”

“You do,” is all Kuroo says as he ducks down again, brushing his lips against Hinata’s thighs, “You need it.”

Legs twitching, Hinata tightens his grip on Kuroo’s hair, trying to keep his breathing even.

It doesn’t work.

“Kuroo,” he gasps out, yanking on his boyfriend’s hair hard enough to make the raven wince, “stop, stop, _please_ stop.”

He’s shaking, shuddering like a leaf. His cheeks are wet with tears, lips swollen from biting on them, chest heaving as his breath continues to escape him.

Kuroo just peppers kisses across his blotchy red face, muttering words of praise.

* * *

 

“Leave me alone,” he’s angry, he doesn’t know why he’s angry. Maybe college is getting to him, maybe he needs a break.

“Shouyou will you please listen to me?” Kuroo takes a step forward and Hinata takes a step back, fingers reaching for the cigarettes on the table next to him, “All I want—”

“Is for me to see a doctor,” he growls and digs into his back pocket, popping a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it, “Like something is wrong with me. Like I need _help_. I don’t need help.” Lies, “I don’t need someone to sit and give me bullshit about how something is wrong with me,” lies, “I don’t need help, Kuroo, and I sure as hell don’t need you meddling into my damn life!”

The room grows quiet, and Hinata slowly lets out an exhale, watching the smoke swirl around the room before disapating. Usually he doesn’t smoke in the house, but he also knew it pissed Kuroo off, so there was _that_.

“Okay.” It’s short. Calm. Collected. Not angry. Hinata blinks once. Twice.

 _Stop meddling in my life_.

Oh fuck.

* * *

 

Hinata ignores the pain in his chest for the first three days.

And by ignores, he ends up not sleeping for two of those days, just smoking and studying in the living room (the bedroom smells like Kuroo). And the third is the day he passed out for a full 24 hours to make up for the lack of sleep.

On the fourth day, Hinata debates calling Kuroo and apologizing. Or going to Kenma’s house—where Kuroo is most definitely camping out—and dragging him back.

 _Stop meddling in my life_.

* * *

 

He lasts for a few months. Days of not sleeping, day of crashing. Days of not sleeping. Day of crashing. He starts chain smoking, starts not eating.

That’s okay though, he smokes the hunger away.

Kuroo doesn’t come back.

* * *

 

Three months. That’s how long he lasts. Until he’s lying in the same bed he used to share with Kuroo, his stomach hurting from not eating, his hair matted from not showering the day before (though he does usually make a point to shower daily). A cigarette dangles from his fingers, the lighter on the nightstand next to him.

An idea strikes him.

With clumsy and uncoordinated movements, Hinata manages get out of bed stumble to the bathroom for a moment, grabbing the blade he used to keep so hidden from under a pile of towels.

There’s a chill in the air, after three months of not having Kuroo, after three months of summer slowly ending, three months of fall slowly taking over. It’s cold in their apartment—his apartment. Though Hinata is still fairly sure that Kuroo pays the bills still, considering Hinata never worried about such things. Water still ran, lights still worked. Television worked—though it was rare that Hinata ever used that thing.

Maybe Kuroo _was_ planning on coming back.

It was just wishful thinking though.

* * *

 

_I’ll always love you_

Stop

_I love you Shouyou, you deserve this_

Stop

_You need this, let me take care of you_

Stop, please

_Why do you hurt yourself?_

No more, please no more

_You know I don’t love you any less because of this_

Why are you doing this to me?

_I’ll kiss your scars every day if I have to._

Stop, stop, stop

_I’ll never leave you_

Stop talking, stop talking, I can’t take it. Stop talking!

 _I love you_.

* * *

 

“I like you,” He’s 17 and just under 163 centimeters.

“Is that so?” He’s 20 and over 187 centimeters.

Shouyou grins, bright, _infectious_ , and Kuroo can’t help but to grin back.

“Of course! The way you block is just. Amazing. I can’t believe you got better in college!” He’s still the personified sunshine, little sunshine boy, as Kuroo referred to him as when he was with Kenma, “How could I not like you?”

Kuroo just tilts his head, a list of several reasons popping up in his head. He says none of them. Instead he just reaches out and ruffles Shouyou’s hair, laughing at the high squeak that he was rewarded with.

“Want to go get coffee?” he offers, because well Shouyou might not like him that way, and Kuroo might not _really_ like him that way, but Shortie was never a bad person to talk to, and while the years haven’t done much to his baby face or his height), Kuroo can tell that the now third year has mellowed out some.

Maybe they would play volleyball together next year.

* * *

 

Kuroo laughs against Shouyou’s lips, pulling away from what should have been a kiss. He sees the bright blush on the boy’s cheeks, and pecks at both of the spots before pressing a lingering kiss on the boy’s lips once again.

“You’re so cute,” he says as he pulls away.

“Whatever,” Shouyou is still blushing, so Kuroo counts that as a victory.

* * *

 

“You should just share my apartment with me next year,” he states, rather than proposes one night.

“But,” Shouyou is looking up at him from his textbooks, a highlighter between his teeth. The ginger boy spits it out and stares at him, a flush creeping over his face, “I can’t pay rent.”

“Can you cook?”

“If you buy me the food to cook with,”

Kuroo smiles, “You got a deal.”

That night, Shouyou kisses him softly on the lips as a thanks, and Kuroo hasn’t felt this happy in what feels like forever.

* * *

 

Where did they go wrong?

* * *

 

Now he’s 23 and looking at the bed he used to call his own.

Now he’s 23 and looking at the boy he used to kiss good morning and good night.

Kuroo is 23 years old and too young to be calling 119, too young to be crying into the phone about a small ginger boy bleeding out.

He’s too young to do CPR on his boyfriend—though estranged (and maybe that was his fault). He’s too young to have paramedics tell him there is nothing else they can do.

Kuroo Tetsurou is 23 years old, and too young to be told that his boyfriend is dead.

* * *

 

Kuroo Tetsurou is 25 years old, and in his will, it is asked that he is buried as close to Hinata Shouyou as possible.


End file.
